


little bad girl (tell me i'm a bad boy)

by averzierlia



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xaith rises, and Charles is surprised at who flies her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little bad girl (tell me i'm a bad boy)

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the vanilla kink square on my kink bingo card. I chose to write about a mating flight because in a Weyr, a mating flight is as vanilla as it gets.
> 
> a/n: I'm pretty sure I meant to have Wolverth trying to catch Xaith, but it was (apparently) not mean to be.
> 
> (abbi again)

Charles wakes from a restless sleep to vision tinted red around the edges and a knot of aching hunger in his guts. He scrambles upright and makes quick work of untangling himself from his blankets, because Xaith is hovering on the edge of sleep, tail twitching with dreams of blood and heat and flight.

He opens his mind and flings a call wide, sharing the knowledge Xaith’s impending rising. He feels the bronzes of the Weyr stop what they were doing and swoop one by one onto the feeding grounds to capture and blood kills.

He stops paying attention to the bronzes the moment Xaith wakes.

She jerks awake and hisses, tail lashing, and Charles barely has time to climb onto the back of the waiting green come to pick him up before she slinks out of her weyr and glides down to the feeding grounds from her ledge.

Charles doesn’t register the green rider helping him down from his dragon’s back, or being surrounded by hopeful bronze riders, his mind joined with Xaith’s.

He bends his will to hers, preventing her from ripping into her kill like she wants to, forcing her to suck the corpse dry of blood instead. Her next kill she doesn’t bother fighting him over, just rips open the throat of the unfortunate wherry and _drinks_.

The bronzes have finished blooding their kills by now, taking only two each, and that leaves plenty for the voracious queen. She takes down her third and fourth wherries in quick succession before moving on to the pens containing herdbeasts. She takes down and bloods two of those before crouching over the drained corpse and hissing, head swinging to take in the eagerly waiting bronzes. She cocks her head at them, tail swishing, then launches herself into the sky, and Charles loses himself.

 _XaithCharles_ easily outdistances the bronzes, unwillingly amused by their pathetic attempts to keep up with them. They fly fast and far with no thought for their potential mates for long minutes, before losing interesting in the joy of flight for flights sake and remembering that they _burn_.

They idly flip over their own wings and fly back to circle around the few remaining bronzes.

 _XaithCharles_ curls their lip at Shawth, the older dragon making their stomach turn at the mere thought of him flying them. Sumerth, of the Hatching after theirs, is mildly interesting, keeping pace with Shawth and oh, oh, _Lensheth_ is the third dragon attempting to prove his worth. _XaithCharles_ is fascinated by the third bronze, because Lensheth never participates in mating flights, even though his rider is slated to be the next Weyr Leader. They circle around again, intending to see if they can cause Shawth to fumble out of the sky, when a shadow passes over them. _XaithCharles_ shrieks in surprise, trying to bring their wings tight against their body in an attempt to roll away, but the bronze, Lensheth, snaps his wings to theirs and twines their tails together and –

– and Charles is mostly back in his body, only a thread connecting him to Xaith’s mind as he moans and ruts against E’rik, desperate for friction.

“Please,” he gasps out, and E’rik silences him with a kiss, thrusting into him as their dragons dance across the sky.

Charles can’t think, can’t breathe, because for the first time Xaith is content with the bronze that has caught her, her contentment bleeding over into his mind along with her lust and pleasure. Because he’s _wanted_ E’rik ever since the first time he saw him, and now Charles has him and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Distantly, he hears their dragons roar as they fall, wings beating in unison, and then he and E’rik are falling too.

*

Charles wakes slowly this time, warm and sated, to the feel of fingers stroking through his hair. He makes a soft noise of contentment and curls into the warm body pressed against him, then blinks his eyes open in confusion when the person chuckles.

 _Oh_ , Charles remembers, _E’rik_.

He props himself up on one arm and looks at the man stretched out next to him. E’rik’s fingers are still tangled in Charles’ hair, and he has a smile on his face.

“I thought you didn’t want anyone to know we’re weyrmates,” Charles questions in confusion, because E’rik had been adamant that no one know.

“That was before S’bastin decided Shawth was going to fly Xaith,” E’rik says lazily, fingers resuming their petting.

Charles yawns and nods, because he’s deliciously sore and Xaith’s lethargy is bleeding into him and E’rik’s reasoning sounds perfectly logical to him.

“Go back to sleep,” E’rik instructs, and so Charles curls back up against him and obeys.


End file.
